


STAR WARS: The Old Republic - Wrath

by TheLastEnvoy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, First Time Bottoming, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gay Character, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Male Slash, Old Republic Era, One Night Stands, Pre-Star Wars: The Old Republic - Knights of the Eternal Throne, Pre-Star Wars: The Old Republic - Knights of the Fallen Empire, Pre-Star Wars: The Old Republic - Shadow of Revan, Romantic Fluff, Science Fiction, Shameless Smut, Sith Empire, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLastEnvoy/pseuds/TheLastEnvoy
Summary: Kyros Urso is intrigued by his latest crew member, Lord Scourge, and perhaps in more ways than he'd like to admit. Little does he know that the former Emperor's Wrath is intrigued by him too.
Relationships: Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Lord Scourge
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	STAR WARS: The Old Republic - Wrath

**Author's Note:**

> An extremely self-indulgent fic in which I pair my Jedi Knight character (Kyros) with Lord Scourge. Brought about due to the frustrtaing heteronormative romance mechanics in early-SWTOR. Hope you enjoy! :'D WARNING: Extremely explicit smut ahead!!

Kyros Urso was unsure what to make of Lord Scourge. In many ways, the Pureblood Sith was like Lord Praven — cloaked in darkness and yet intent on doing the right thing, not just for himself, but for the galaxy at large. As open-minded as Kyros liked to think himself to be, he had to admit even he had some long-held prejudices against the Sith species. They were all naturally attuned to the Dark Side, a warrior race with blood-thirsty rituals and traditions. Some of the most notorious Sith Lords in history — Naga Sadow, Ludo Kresh, Marka Ragnos — were more than enough to justify the Jedi’s fear of them. A few months ago, the idea that any Sith could possibly turn to the light was laughable. Now, however, Kyros wasn’t so sure. Lord Praven had willingly given himself up to the Jedi Order. Lord Scourge had gone even further than that. He’d betrayed the Emperor himself, testified before the Jedi council despite overwhelming odds of nobody believing his story, and saved the lives of every single member of the Defender’s crew, including Kyros himself. If that alone didn’t make him trustworthy, the Jedi wasn’t sure what was.

And yet, there was something else about the red-skinned being that drew Kyros to him in a way he couldn’t explain. The haughty way Scourge prowled the ship, his thick arms folded across his breastplate in a sneer. It was also the way he spoke. To the other crew, he had little to say at all and when he did, it was either a scathing criticism or an opinion on how pathetic the Republic and the Jedi were. With Kyros, however, his speech was, perhaps, less scathing. In a way, it was soft and almost friendly. Kyros had also noticed that, despite being taller than him, the Sith couldn’t bear to look him in the eye for too long, as if he were intimidated by him. This could have been a number of things, the first being the vision he spoke of, in which he described seeing Kyros’ face on the Jedi who will defeat the Emperor. A vision, he claimed, to have had three hundred years ago. 

Even now, Kyros had trouble believing this. He didn’t have a clear idea as to how long a Sith could live, but his estimate was perhaps a little longer than the average human. Certainly not three hundred years. Even if they did, surely Scourge would show signs of his great age. Physically, however, he appeared to be at least two standard decades younger than Lord Praven. 

Still, Kyros knew it to be true. Not only did he never sense any deceit when the Sith spoke of his past, the way he carried himself, even the words he spoke, hinted towards someone who was much older. It was there in his eyes too. Full of pain. Full of anguish. And yet, also, hope.

“Once this is all over,” Kyros said as he navigated the Defender around a large nebula, dropping out of Hyperspace to do so. “When the Emperor’s defeated and the Galaxy is safe, what will you do?”

Scourge leant against the Holonav, the white glow of the Galaxy’s spiral arms falling elegantly along his scarlet complexion. Kyros half-expected him to sneer like always and become very guarded. Instead, he closed his eyes, twirling his right cheek tendril as a human male would do a moustache. 

“What will I do?” He opened them again and regarded the Jedi. “What do you mean, exactly?”

“Well, you can’t go back to the Empire.”

Scourge thought for a moment. “I suppose,” he said, “turn myself over to your Republic. Your Jedi Order.” He spoke the last words with a slight curl of his lips. “What else can I do? I am a war criminal, after all. I was a servant to the Emperor. The senate would not like me being let go, would they?”

If he’d been saying this to Kira, or even Doc, Kyros was sure his words would be dripping with acid. But again, that calm, soft tone as if he were talking to someone who truly understood him.

“They might,” Kyros said. “You did testify before the Jedi council. Without your help, we wouldn’t have even got this far.”

Scourge said nothing, though he breathed in sharply as if only just recognising this. “I suppose you’re right.”

“You know you’ll always have a place on this ship.”

The Sith then did something Kyros had never seen him do before. He smiled. “You have my thanks, Master Jedi.”

“I keep telling you, call me Kyros. Jedi Master makes me sound old.”

“Not nearly as old as me, I can assure you,” Scourge said. The smile was still in place. How much more beautiful it made him look. 

“Yeah. I forget you’re an old man.” The question he’d been wanting to ask since they met on Quesh demanded to be asked. “So, are you… immortal?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Scourge grunted. 

“In a manner of speaking?”

“I am still vulnerable. I may exist for all eternity or for however long the Emperor exists, but I can still die. Take a lightsabre to my heart. Throw me out of an airlock. Do whatever you can, and you’ll probably kill me. The only thing that won’t kill me is old age.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. At least you won’t get wrinkles.”

Again, Scourge shut his eyes and a crease formed on his brow. “Immortality comes at a steep price. Every moment I am in complete agony. My body…” He ran a gloved hand over his breastplate. “All I feel is sharp invisible needles, stabbing me with every breath, every footstep. I cannot stop it. It will not stop. Any normal being might have been driven mad. I, however, have endured although my sanity is fragile to say the least. The only thing that has kept me going is the knowledge that, one day, I would meet you and that the Emperor will fall.” He heaved a great sigh and every single one of his three-hundred-year existence could be heard in it. “I find it difficult to believe that you and I have met at last, or that the Emperor’s mad scheme will come to an end soon.”

“Three hundred years is a long time to wait.”

Scourge nodded. “It was worth it.” He turned away suddenly, standing up a little straighter. Though it was hard to tell with his red skin, Kyros was convinced the Sith was blushing. 

“What else did you see?” the Jedi asked. “In your vision. Was it just me facing the Emperor?”

“That,” Scourge said. “And something else.”

After a pause, Kyros said, “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

“I saw you, except… You weren’t facing the Emperor this time. He was vanquished and you were, for lack of a better word, radiating light. You were a pure embodiment of the Force. You were life. You were warmth. You were everything.” Scourge’s eyes remained averted as he yet again played with his cheek tendril. “And I felt… I cannot describe it. I never felt anything like it before. I felt your light here.” He put his hand in the centre of his chest. “There was no pain anymore. I was… content.” He turned to Kyros, moving an inch or two closer. “Have you ever had a dream in which someone you never knew comes to you and you embrace like lovers, and you know from that moment on that the two of you would be bonded through the Force forever?”

Kyros’ face grew warm. Yes, he knew all right. Only last night, he’d dreamt of such a person, a red-skinned being with fierce features, full of pride and arrogance, yet so full of anguish and turmoil, lit only by the flickering candle of hope. A red-skinned being who greatly resembled the Sith Pureblood who knelt beside his chair gazing intently into his eyes.

“I do.” His mouth had gone dry.

“I had that,” Scourge said in a whisper. “Only, it was a vision, too real to be a dream. And I had it about you.”

Those red eyes, full of centuries of experience, were gazing upon him with such intensity Kyros could not look away. His own hand found his broad chest, for it had tightened with the images flashing across his mind. Lord Scourge in the sonic shower. His red skin shining with the water running cleanly off it, down the curve of his vast back, his rear and the back of his legs. Every inch of his was a sight to behold. Beautiful. As beautiful as a sunset on Tython. 

Tentatively, not even realising what he was doing, Kyros reached out and ran a hand along Scourge’s cheek. The Sith tensed a little then relaxed as the Jedi’s fingers brushed the edge of his face tendrils. He was about to draw away, but Scourge grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand back. 

“I never thought,” Scourge whispered, “I’d ever feel this way about anyone again. Please… I’ve forgotten what it is to be loved.”

Kyros’ other hand found Scourge’s face. “Then let me show you.”

They kissed. The Sith’s lips did not taste how Kyros expected them to. Warm with a hint of fruit. It started slow at first, their lips testing the other’s, then, slowly, grew more intense until both their mouths were locked together. They only stopped when they needed to draw breath, foreheads resting against one another.

“I—” Scourge seemed lost as to what to say. “I don’t know if—”

“What?”

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Scourge…”

“It’s just been so long.”

Kyros put a finger to his lips. They kissed once more as if the Galaxy depended on it. Scourge did not pull away. In fact, he drew the Jedi into a fierce embrace until both their thick bodies were pressed against each other’s. The Sith’s body heat made the coldness of space feel distant, as if they were lying on a sunny meadow and not beneath a few metres of durasteel bulkhead. Kyros hands began to explore him — the heavily muscled torso beneath the armourweave, the small ridges running down Scourge’s back. Even the smoothness of the Sith’s bald cranium was a welcome feeling to Kyros. 

Then his hands began to explore other places. So did Scourge. The gloved Sith’s hand undid some of his tunic and reached in to play at the Jedi’s right nipple. Kyros gasped and Scourge jumped, which made him laugh.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It felt good.”

“I never knew they were that sensitive,” Scourge mumbled but he couldn’t help but smile. 

“Keep doing it.”

This time, Scourge took off his glove. His warm, calloused palm pinched and tweaked once more, making Kyros bite his lip as he practically ripped off the rest of his upper tunic. The hand rubbed and squeezed his firm pectoral and Kyros was pleased to see how hypnotised Scourge looked doing this.

“Suck it.”

Licking his lips, Scourge bent towards him and began to run his tongue over Kyros’ brown areola. The sensation sent jolts of pleasure through the Jedi as he grabbed the back of the Sith’s head and pushed him onto it. He felt very warm, not just in his cheeks, but in his chest and in his groin. His lower tunic was growing tight as his manhood thickened. He took one of Scourge’s free hands and let him feel the throbbing bulge between his legs. Scourge let out a kind of growl then drew back, unfastening his cape and shrugging off breastplate and shoulder pads. Kyros thought he was going to stop there, but no. Scourge even went as far as to take off his armourweave tunic — the upper part of it, at least. His chest hitched at the sight of the Sith’s hairless torso, defined by bulging muscles, his skin covered in a light sheen of sweat. Kyros realised he was sweaty too, droplets of it running down the curve of his belly through his body hair.

Scourge got to his knees, his hands eagerly undoing Kyro’s belt. It revealed Kyros’ erection beneath his britches, as well as the small patch of moisture at its apex. With nimble fingers, Scourge pulled at the waistband and tugged down. He didn’t go easy — the waistband tugged at Kyros’ fully erect penis and he cried out as it sprang free. Pointing upwards towards the bulkhead, the head peeked out from the foreskin, leaking come. 

There was barely a heartbeat before Scourge took it in his mouth and began to suck. Kyros had to bite on his arm to prevent himself making too much noise. The Sith’s mouth was warm and wet and wonderful in fact that if he wasn’t careful—

Scourge’s eyes were fixed on the Jedi’s as he took the whole of his girth right up to the hilt. Where did he learn to do this? Kyros was perhaps seconds from climaxing before the Sith pulled away with a gasp. He continued to masturbate Kyros for a few moments, pausing to suck, then continue to masturbate. He stopped just before the climax, making each one feel more intense than the last. Kyros could hardly take it. Any second, he was going to blow. Not even Kira—

“I want you,” Scourge whispered as he gave Kyros another kiss. “Inside me.”

He stood up, took off his boots, then pulled down his own britches, including the undergarment. The Sith’s own manhood was throbbing too. It was remarkably human-like, only thicker with a narrower head. Kyros was glad he was the one topping. He, too, stripped himself completely until he sat naked on the captain’s chair, legs spread wide. Scourge placed both hands on his shoulders, moved forward to hover over his lap, then lowered himself onto Kyros.

It took a couple of tries for it to go in. Once it did, Kyros expected it to be dry, but Scourge’s saliva must’ve been more durable than a human’s because he was still wet as the tip of his cock found Scourge’s hole. He pushed his hips forward, making Scourge gasp.

“I’m sorry,” Kyros said, kissing his hand. “Am I hurting you?”

Scourge nodded then raised up a little. “Just… Let me get used to you.”

He wiggled his own hips and Kyros cried out. Then, slowly but surely, he took him an inch at a time. The Sith winced for a minute or two, almost pulling off, but then seemed to relax, falling into rhythm. Up, down, up, down. The warmth of him was the most intimate, most private yet most glorious thing Kyros had ever felt. They began to pant and sweat harder as the rhythm sped up. The Jedi’s hands grasped at the Sith’s waist, keeping him in place as Scourge moaned and sighed. He leant forward a couple of times, breathing heavily. Kyros drew his chest to his face, kissing the ridges in the centre, licking at the Sith’s abdomen. He could feel his erection pressing into him, it too leaking some kind of liquid of its own, warm and slick. 

“Finish me,” Scourge whimpered. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes!”

Kyros thrust harder. Scourge bounced a little more. And then… The Jedi’s hand squeezed the soft flesh of the Sith’s left buttock as he felt the building pressure release. He couldn’t help himself. He moaned with ecstasy as he planted his seed inside Scourge. The Sith took it with enthusiasm, even pushing himself further down Kyros’ shaft to make sure none of it escaped. 

Neither did he immediately jump off, but rested there, letting Kyros just be inside him for a while as the two of them caught their breath.

“That… was glorious,” Scourge said.

“Was?” Kyros grinned roguishly. “Who said it was over?”

Grabbing the shaft of Scourge’s penis, he rubbed it between his palm and his belly, sending Scourge into throws of ecstasy. A few seconds later, he too burst, spilling his own seed over Kyros, warm, sticky, but wonderful.

They sat holding each other for a long time, ignoring the view of the nebula as it floated past the viewport. 

“Of all my three hundred years as the Emperor’s Wrath,” Scourge said at last. “I have never felt anything so… so good.”

“Really? Not even on your days off?”

“I never had a day off.”

“Well, I hope it was worth the wait.”

The Sith smiled as he planted a kiss on Kyros’ forehead. “It certainly was.”


End file.
